Bad Religion
by TMPR
Summary: CrissColfer. " It's a bad religion to be in love with someone who could never love you "


I thought had felt love before, but this was different.  
Strong.  
Real.  
Perfect.  
The kind of love that you look back on and a tiny part of your heart gets caught in your throat.  
The kind of love that looking back on you know its gonna end in heartbreak.  
I was living in my very own fairy tale, except mine had no happily ever after.  
No brave knight came to save me.

It was all to fast, too eager. But I was ready for it, I had been ready for a long time.

I had always felt it, right from the start.  
It was hard not to, being around him ,in any capacity would have anyone falling to their knees.

I thought about it every night that first summer. The first time being this close, always in his presence. So close, but still not close enough.  
It got harder to be with him and not want to get completely lost.  
I wasn't brave then.  
It was bittersweet when the tour finally came to an end, I needed to get away before my feelings got the better of me, but I still ached for him.

Then we went back to work and back to our old routine.  
Running lines together, getting coffee or dinner or drinks after scene's, laughing and crying and kissing, but working.  
Everything was heightened now, I was so much more aware of him and as the year went on I could barely stand it.  
He began to notice, at first I would brush it off as nothing, but then summer came again and this time I was brave.

And so began the whirlwind.

Those first few weeks, I hate to sound cliched, but were by far the best I've ever had in my life. The world was still going on around us, but we were encased in our own little bubble. I felt like I was part of some special club. It was just for the two of us and I had never felt so honoured in my life. I was the lucky one.

I remember that summer not in days but in feelings. In long walks and conversation. Bright smiles and laughter.  
The pressure of another hand linked with mine. Warmth in my chest and butterflies in my stomach.  
And I remember the nights by stars and the light of the moon. Blankets in the park, the feeling of the grass under my back.  
I remember hushed breaths, soft touches and the scent of honey and cologne. I remember tangled limps, alabaster and tan, the weight of another body a top of mine. Secret kisses in the dark.

Eventually the summer got to busy for the both of us but still we went on.  
No matter where we were, together or a part, across deserts or sea's, nothing stoped us.  
I'd call knowing he'd be busy just so I could hear his answering machine.  
He'd send me a message when he went to bed so that when I woke I knew I was on his mind.  
We'd stay up and talk in to the night, I'd hold on to the phone tightly wishing it was him.|  
But then some times we'd go days without speaking. I kept telling myself it was only because we both had so much to do, reassuring myself that the distance hadn't changed anything. I knew I was being selfish but I just wanted him here with me. I was so proud and happy for him that his dreams were coming true, mine too, but I couldn't help what I wanted.  
And so in the middle of the night I caught a flight to him.

I showed up at his hotel door, restless and itching to just touch him but I didn't get the welcome I was hoping for.  
He questioned why I would do this, like he couldn't comprehend why someone would go to all this trouble for him.  
After months, years even, of holding it all in I broke down right there on the floor in the doorway to his room, spewing every thought, every feeling I had ever hard.  
I grieved for the words as they left me, knowing I could never take them back.

He tried, I know he tried with everything he had but he just couldn't.  
I was ready to shout about my love from the highest of rooftops, but he wasn't even able to speak it to himself let alone me.  
And I could never make him love me.

I somehow always knew this was how it was going to go, but I had done such a great job of fooling myself this whole time. And it still didn't make it hurt any less.

So I turned away and got the next flight back home.

That was years ago now.  
We went back to work that year as if the last 3 months hadn't happened. I never told a soul and I'm sure he did the same. What happened was too precious for me to share with anyone else. Even when I spent my nights crying until I was hoarse, I never told anyone why.

We still see each other every now and then, at certain events or shows. We greet each other with nothing but smiles and hugs but still I'm careful not to hang on for to long.  
I've met his new fiance, and he's met mine.  
Life has gone on.  
But I can't help but remember that summer. Sometimes it brings smiles and sometimes it brings tears.  
But every time it brings that feeling of my first true love. Even if it was an unrequited love.  
And the boy who gave it to me.

_I wrote this from one of the boy's in mind, but I've kept it openish so the reader can decide who they think is remembering their summer. :)_


End file.
